


Token

by SpiritWorld



Series: The Adventures of Westley Pendragon [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, Post-Canon, They're parents trying their best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24737686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritWorld/pseuds/SpiritWorld
Summary: “'Don’t you think your toys are sad that you’re not spending as much time with them anymore?” He tried. Westley stared at him for a moment, seemingly contemplating the predicament.“You’re right, Papa!” He shouted, crawling out from between them towards the foot of the bed. “They can all come sleep with us!” Arthur let out an audible groan as the boy began tugging at their hands, wanting them to follow him. Merlin refused to make eye contact with his husband who he was sure was currently glaring a hole into his skull."***After a run in with an assassin at Camelot's annual summer feast, Arthur and Merlin's son Westley refuses to go anywhere without Merlin. They try everything they can think of to help him with his codependency but are left at their wits end.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: The Adventures of Westley Pendragon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788736
Comments: 28
Kudos: 228





	Token

A wail ripped through the upper corridor of the castle, startling the staff going about their daily routine. Merlin cringed from where he stood directly outside of his and Arthur’s chambers, tossing a few half-hearted apologies at the servants passing by with their hands clapped over their ears. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, making sure to shut it quickly behind him. The crying and screaming hadn’t diminished upon his arrival. He was greeted by the sight of his husband in full chain-mail kneeling on the floor in front of their four-year-old son desperately trying to calm him down.

“So, that didn’t work,” Arthur quipped, retracting his hand from where Westley had just slapped it away. Merlin grimaced.

“Yes, I heard.” At the sound of his voice Westley looked up from where he was sat on the floor. His huge blue and blotchy eyes met Merlin’s, tears still flowing freely from them as he jumped up to run towards him. Merlin knelt down before him and pulled him in, patting him on the back a few times in hopes of alleviating his hiccupping. “Oh love, I just left for a moment. I’m alright.”

“Papa!” Westley yelled into his shoulder. The sorcerer could nearly feel the way the boy’s snot rubbed onto his coat. He made a mental note to change his clothes before leaving his chambers again that day.

The full-blown tantrums from the young prince had been going on for nearly a fortnight now. Ever since the incident at Camelot’s summer feast, Westley had refused to leave Merlin’s side. It had begun like any other banquet or feast he had attended during his time in Camelot. High esteemed guests poured in from all over the five kingdoms to join them in celebration. The summer feast was unique to many of the others they held throughout the year, as it took place mainly between the courtyard and the royal gardens of the castle.

It had happened while Arthur was off mingling with some of Queen Annis’ dignitaries. Merlin had been making his way back from the gardens when he spotted movement along the castle walls surrounding the courtyard. Something had felt off. The guards meant to be patrolling the walls, usually visible from where he was standing, were nowhere to be found. As he made his way into the middle of the courtyard, he had seen the person move again, a flash of light reflecting off whatever object they were holding in their hands. He had pushed his way through the crowds of people dancing to get a better view of the man. Everything that followed happened within a minute’s time.

The man at the top of the wall had a crossbow aimed at the area where Guinevere and Morrowin were keeping Westley and the other younger guests entertained. He remembered yelling Gwen’s name, the fear in her eyes, the screaming that erupted from those present when he stopped the first arrow in midair with his magic. He’d ran to get in front of Westley and the children to make sure they got away. Another arrow caught him by surprise as he attempted to orientate himself, piercing his shoulder. All he remembered after that was his knees hitting the hard stone below him, Arthur calling his name from across the courtyard, and then nothing.

He had woken up in Gaius’ chambers some hours after to find that the assassin had been dealt with by Gwaine and Percival. Apparently, someone had had it out for Arthur and wanted to make him suffer by taking away his heir apparent. The knowledge that this most likely would not be the last attempt on his son’s life turned his stomach. It reminded him all too well of all the times an attempt had been made on Arthur’s life as a result of Uther’s decisions. But Westley was safe for now and Merlin, thanks to Gaius’ care and some magic, was left only with a terribly sore shoulder and a nasty scar.

At first, they assumed the young Prince was merely scared for his own life when he began to cry anytime he was left with the nursemaids. It became quickly apparent however that he had witnessed Merlin get hurt while Guinevere was carrying him away. If Merlin left for even a second, Westley would begin to shout and cry. This led to their seemingly endless struggle to find a solution that didn’t involve the boy being with Merlin all hours of the day. Today, they had tried to get Arthur to distract him while Merlin stood on the other side of the door. It didn’t much surprise him that that had not worked.

“You don’t have to come to the meeting today,” Arthur sighed, dusting off his cape as he stood up. Merlin shook his head vigorously at the suggestion.

“We are to discuss the needed adjustments to our treaty with Essetir and King Lot has sent the top sorcerers from his court to represent him. I can’t just not be there, Arthur.”

“Westley, looks as if you’ll be attending another meeting today,” the King said.

“That’s boring,” Westley grumbled. His crying had been reduced to sniffles and he was finally looking at his father again when he spoke.

“You could spend the day with Morrowin or Guinevere. Your uncle Gaius would certainly love to see you as well,” Arthur suggested hopefully.

“No!” It was worth the try.

“We can try again later. After the meeting,” Merlin promised, placing a kiss to the top of their son’s head before standing up as well.

“After the meeting,” Arthur agreed, flashing him a strained smile.

✯•´*¨`*•♛•*`¨*`•✯

“I mean no disrespect Sire, but I believe the Prince is causing quite the disruption to our current discussion,” one of the dignitaries from Essetir scolded, lips drawn into a tight-lipped smile.

“Westley, behave,” Merlin whispered, gently grabbing ahold of the boy who had just been spinning in circles beside him.

“Apologies, Sir Galavant,” Arthur responded. Merlin could see the telltale signs that meant his husband was fighting to keep his composure. His left eye had begun twitching and his fingers rapped against the top of the table harsher than necessary. “Our son has felt… unwell as of late. I assume a council of experienced leaders such as ourselves will not have any further problems focusing on the task at hand, however.” The sorcerer fought to hold in the laugh that was threatening to burst out of him.

“Of course not, _Sire_ ,” the man sneered in return. The rest of the meeting passed without great commotion. Out of the three of them, the young Prince was by far the most grateful to see the whole ordeal come to an end. As soon as they left the room, Westley was already grabbing onto Merlin’s hand, tugging him in the other direction.

“I’ll take him to play for a bit while you hold court.”

“Alright,” Arthur nodded hesitantly, leaning over to place a quick kiss on his cheek. “I will see the both of you at dinner.”

“Bye, Dada!” Westley waved with the hand not currently glued to Merlin’s. The sorcerer bid him goodbye as well, letting his son tug him towards his room.

✯•´*¨`*•♛•*`¨*`•✯

A knock sounded at the door.

“Come in!” Merlin shouted, looking up in time to see Guinevere walk in. She held a basket of freshly washed bedding in her arms which she placed at the foot of the Prince’s bed.

“Gwen, it’s good to see you.”

“Likewise, Merlin,” she smiled, moving over to where he was sat on a pillow on the floor. She quirked an eyebrow at him in amusement.

“It’s preferable to standing the entire time,” he shrugged. It was no use sitting in the chairs either if his son would just come to pull him down to play again.

“Auntie Gwen!” Westley cheered as he walked up to her with his hands raised.

“Hello there Westley!” Gwen laughed, picking him up and spinning him around. “Have you grown since I saw you yesterday?”

“Yes! So much!” The boy giggled as she put him down again. “Play with me Auntie Gwen!”

“In a moment, dear. Get everything set up while I talk to your papa.” She watched as he ran back to his toys, nearly tripping over his own feet in excitement. Not bothering to fetch herself a pillow, she took a seat next to her old friend, bumping her shoulder against his playfully. “You look tired.”

Merlin snorted. “I feel tired.”

“Nothing’s worked I take it?” Gwen asked, biting her lip. He swore that he could feel the pity rolling off of her in waves. She meant well, he knew.

“No!” He groaned, trying to keep his tone as even as he could as not to worry his son. “We’ve tried everything. We left him with Morrowin one time to see if he’d stop crying on his own.”

“And?”

“He fell asleep after crying on and off for half an hour then cried again when he woke up. His throat was so sore the next day he could barely speak.”

“Oh. Poor boy.”

“Even leaving him with Arthur doesn’t work if I’m not there. Gaius made him a special sleeping draught as well which worked until he ran into our room in the middle of the night screaming to make sure I was ok.” Merlin had lowered his voice to a frustrated whisper now.

“Oh Merlin, he has to stop eventually,” she replied reassuringly.

“Yes, but when, Gwen? I love Westley, I do, but I’ve not had a moment to myself in a fortnight. Arthur and I haven’t had any time alone either since before the attack. It feels like he and I haven’t had a proper conversation in ages.” He paused, turning his gaze to the pillow he was sat on, avoiding Gwen’s eyes. “Is that selfish of me?”

“No, Merlin. No one is meant to be around someone else all hours of the day. It’s perfectly reasonable to feel that way,” she responded quietly, carefully placing her hand on his shoulder. He sighed, letting out a breath he wasn’t aware he had been holding. Her words eased the turbulent thoughts that had taken hold in his mind the last few days. Merlin looked up at her and smiled despite the exhaustion looming over him. Gwen smiled in turn, squeezing his shoulder.

“Ow, Gwen!” He hissed. She looked at him mortified when she realized her mistake, hands flying up to cover her mouth.

“Oh Merlin, I am so sorry!”

“It’s alright,” he laughed, rolling his injured shoulder. “I’m a lot more awake now at least.”

“Ready to play!” Merlin and Gwen turned their attention to Westley who had set up a row of towers made up of wooden blocks that Merlin assumed was meant to mirror a castle.

“Just a minute Westley!” Guinevere replied, using her hand to push herself off the floor. She leaned over to squeeze his good shoulder this time. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, or Arthur, or Westley.”

“Thank you, Gwen.”

“And just so you know, if you decide to take a nap on your son’s floor while I distract him, I shan’t tell a soul.” He was truly lucky to have her in his life.

“Thank you, Gwen,” he repeated fondly.

✯•´*¨`*•♛•*`¨*`•✯

After a long day of attending meetings, mulling over official reports, and keeping their son entertained, it was finally time to retire properly for the night. Merlin was grateful for the comforts of an actual bed. As much as he appreciated his midday nap, sleeping on the floor had given him an awful crick in his neck. He pressed back against the warmth of Arthur’s chest who lay behind him, arms wrapped loosely around his torso. Westley lay sleeping within an arm’s length of him on the bed. Merlin ran his fingers through his son’s hair idly, trying to ignore Arthur’s restless shifting.

“Are you still awake?” Arthur whispered the question directly into his ear. Merlin scrunched up his nose as the sensation tickled the nape of his neck.

“Hmm? Yes, barely,” he replied groggily, keeping his eyes shut.

“Do you think he’s angry with me?” Merlin could feel the way his husband’s fingers tightened on his hip, trembling against his skin. Carefully, he turned himself around in Arthur’s arms, making sure not to jostle Westley too much in his sleep.

“No, you absolute dollophead. He adores you.”

“He seemed pretty cross with me earlier,” Arthur insisted. Merlin was sure he was referring to the incident the day before where Westley had nearly knocked Arthur’s teeth out when they had tried to put him to sleep in his own bed again with Merlin standing out of sight just around the corner.

“Because you were keeping him away from me. He would have done that with anyone.”

“But I am his _father_.” The comment hung heavy in the air between the two of them, the sorcerer at a loss for words. Arthur stared at him, his eyebrows drawn together and teeth worrying his bottom lip. The confusion and frustration warring in his bright, blue eyes left Merlin’s heart aching. Almost instinctually, he reached over to wipe away the singular tear that had managed to escape the blond’s eye. Knowing Arthur, he was surely holding back a week’s worth of doubts and worries he refused to acknowledge directly. He let his hand linger on his husband’s face, noticing the way he leaned into the touch.

“Arthur, it’s not your fault.”

The King merely shook his head resigned. “I should have been more careful. I should have known to be more weary of an assault during an outdoor banquet. I should have-”

“Stop blaming yourself for things you can’t control, idiot,” he interrupted sternly. “We both would have given our lives to protect him. I just happened to get to him before you because I was closer.” Merlin moved his hand away from Arthur’s face and slid it down the man’s bare chest, resting it right above his heart. He could feel it beating quickly, a side effect from revisiting the stress of the past two weeks he assumed. “We _will_ figure it out together,” Merlin swore, pressing his lips to Arthur’s in a quick kiss.

A whimpering noise pulled them out of their quiet, shared moment, growing louder with every passing second.

“Nightmares,” they sighed nearly in unison. Merlin rolled out of his husband’s grip and placed a hand on Westley’s back to steady him.

_“Líðs,”_ he whispered, eyes glittering gold in the darkness of the room. The boy’s breathing began to even out. The rise and fall of his chest slowed down as he slipped back into a peaceful sleep.

“Must have been a small one if the magic helped this time,” Arthur commented. It had been nearly impossible to get him to sleep again with a calming spell a few days ago. “Perhaps he’s getting better.”

Merlin wasn’t sure if he believed that, but he desperately wanted to. “Perhaps.”

✯•´*¨`*•♛•*`¨*`•✯

The idea came to him suddenly while eating dinner in their chambers the next night. Merlin nearly choked on the chicken.

“Papa! You have to eat slow. Like this!” Westley shouted. He demonstrated by moving his food as slowly as he could manage to his mouth. The steady opening and closing of his lips as he attempted to carefully chew the food filled the chambers with a comically loud popping sound. Arthur laughed unabashed at the display, earning him a discreet kick from his husband who had managed to pull himself together again.

“Yes, _Merlin_ ,” Arthur teased, not bothering to acknowledge the action. “Do let Westley know if he needs to give you more lessons on proper dining etiquette.”

“I will, Papa!” Their son chimed in sending the King into another fit of laughter. Merlin did his best to pull a frown, but his lips quivered in betrayal as he held back a laugh of his own. He appreciated these moments of levity in between the chaos and stress of the day. His husband eyed him curiously and Merlin waved him off with a muttered promise of ‘later’.

After what remained of dinner was taken back to the kitchens and they struggled to give the young Prince his nightly bath, the three of them were on the bed with Westley nestled between them.

“Westley,” Merlin began softly, “do you want to try to sleep in your own room tonight?” He could feel the boy next to him tense up at the question, his eyes growing wide.

“No!” Came the anticipated response.

“Don’t you think your toys are sad that you’re not spending as much time with them anymore?” He tried. Westley stared at him for a moment, seemingly contemplating the predicament.

“You’re right, Papa!” He shouted, crawling out from between them towards the foot of the bed. “They can all come sleep with us!” Arthur let out an audible groan as the boy began tugging at their hands, wanting them to follow him. Merlin refused to make eye contact with his husband who he was sure was currently glaring a hole into his skull.

“Love, you know that even when you can’t see me, I’m still here.”

“No!” The boy’s lips began to wobble, tears already pooling in his eyes.

“But when your father, or Auntie Gwen or Uncle Gaius aren’t here you know they’re alright.”

“That’s not the same!” Westley cried, tugging at Merlin’s hand more fiercely this time. Merlin sat up properly, leaning over to grab the boy. His injured shoulder protested the motion as he settled Westley into his lap.

“Alright, love. You know your Papa has powerful magic, right?”

His son eyed him quizzically. “Yes,” He responded unsure.

“Well, what if I told you that magic could make sure that I’m safe even when you don’t see me?”

“Nuh uh,” Westley argued, folding his arms in defiance.

“Of course it can! Do you know what a token is?” He felt Arthur shifting beside him, undoubtedly watching their entire interaction unfold in confusion.

“A noken?” Westley tried.

“A _token_ ,” the sorcerer corrected. “It’s an enchanted item that protects the person carrying it from getting hurt. But it only works when it comes from someone that really loves them.”

“I love you, Papa! I could give you it!” The young Prince shouted raising his hands eagerly.

“Ah, you’re right. It must be something small. Something that is really important to you,” Merlin sighed, bringing his hand up to his chin and scrunching his face up in what Arthur had dubbed his exaggerated thinking face.

“I know! We have to go to my room,” Westley announced now bouncing with excitement, his tears having all but disappeared now. Merlin lifted him gently off his lap and lowered him down to the ground beside the bed. Arthur stood up as well, his eyes begging Merlin to let him in on whatever scheme he was hatching. He answered him with a smile, letting the boy tug him towards his connected chambers. Once they entered the room, Westley bounded over to his toys.

“What are you up to?” The King finally questioned, sliding into the room to stand next to him.

“Trust me,” Merlin replied, squeezing his hand before joining their son on the floor.

“I got it!” Westley yelled, holding up a figurine of a wooden dragon in his hands. It had been a gift from Queen Annis, who had had it carved for the Prince’s third name day. “You have to use Areion. He’s the most important.”

Merlin took the dragon from his tiny hands reverently. He nodded solemnly to hopefully sell the seriousness of the situation. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” the boy responded with all the finality a four-year-old could muster.

“ _Smyltnes éadnes æmetta léoht._ " Westley stared in wonder as the dragon became enveloped in a soft pulsing blue light. It hovered above the palm of his hand, spinning once before falling again. The boy ran a hesitant finger over the figurine, giggling at the warmth the lingering magic gave off.

“We must test it now to make sure it works.” Westley eyed him hesitantly, looking past his papa to his father who simply nodded in agreement. “I will leave you with your father for a short moment. You have to be very very brave Westley, or it might not work.”

Arthur moved forward without hesitation, taking a knee next to his son. Merlin stood up again making a show of how tightly he was holding on to the toy dragon. Westley held fast to his father’s nightshirt, eyes following Merlin as he walked through the door that connected the two rooms. Merlin stood in his and Arthur’s chambers anxiously awaiting the screaming a part of him still expected to follow. A minute passed and then another and all he could hear was sniffling coming from the other room and Arthur’s steady reassurances of ‘it’s alright’ and ‘he’s safe’. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity but could have been no more than a few minutes, he walked back into his son’s room. Westley was still stood by his father’s side, eyes a bit red but otherwise composed.

“You were so brave, Westley! I felt safe the entire time,” Merlin praised.

“Really?” Westley asked, rubbing at the nonexistent tears in his eyes.

“Really,” He confirmed, kneeling down next to the two of them and drawing the boy into a hug. Arthur threw his arms around them both.

“Thank you,” he whispered into Merlin’s hair quietly. They sat that way for a while, arms wrapped around each other and knees digging into the wooden floor. Westley was the first to pull away, tapping on his father’s shoulder excitedly.

“Can you tell me a story tonight, Dada?”

“Me?” The King asked surprised. He had only wanted to hear stories from Merlin as of late.

“You do the best voices!” Arthur’s confusion turned to pride in an instant.

“You hear that, Merlin? I do the best voices,” he declared, smirking at his husband.

“Your father does the voices so well because he’s _dramatic,”_ Merlin scoffed rolling his eyes. A pillow connected with the back of his head unexpectedly.

“Quiet, Merlin. Jealousy is unbecoming of you,” his husband jeered while their son giggled beside him. Merlin stuck out his tongue at them which Westley mirrored gleefully.

They finished preparing the boy for bed, giving him one of the sleeping draughts Gaius had prepared. The sorcerer hoped it would help more now that Westley had calmed down a bit on his own. They stayed with the young Prince until he fell asleep, weary to leave him too early.

“Did you make it up? That business with the token?” Arthur asked after they had returned to their chambers.

“Of course not! Protective tokens are real,” Merlin retorted in mock offense. “Though I’ve never learned how to make one. Haven’t gotten around to learning that particular spell,” he admitted, throwing himself onto their bed. For the first time that day, he noticed how sore his entire body was. He could feel the exhaustion seeping into his bones.

“What did you do to it then?”

Merlin turned the wooden figure around in his hands smiling. “I performed a more complicated calming spell and then made it light up. I’m not even sure how long the calming spell will stick with an object.”

“You’re maddening,” Arthur chuckled joining him on the bed after stripping off his night shirt. “Do you think it’ll work?” He asked, sliding a hand into Merlin’s hand.

Merlin sighed as he rolled over to embrace the other man. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

✯•´*¨`*•♛•*`¨*`•✯

Merlin’s eyes fluttered open, squinting as the sunlight filtered in past the curtains. It was still early morning considering no one had come to wake them. He stretched his hand forward to the spot on the bed where he had come to expect Westley to be, only to be met with the cool fabric of the bed sheets. His mind awoke in an instant as he propped himself up on his elbows to take in his surroundings. Arthur was still sound asleep next to him, an arm flung around his waist and snoring softly. He began shaking the man much to his displeasure.

“Do you hear that?”

“No, Merlin. Let me sleep,” Arthur groaned, burrowing his head further into the pillow.

“That’s my point you clotpole. It’s quiet!” Merlin hissed still shaking the other man’s shoulders.

“Some of us do enjoy when it’s quiet, Mer-,” he stopped suddenly, finally opening his eyes to look up at him. “Westley isn’t here.”

“He’s still in his room.” Arthur sat up quickly, nearly knocking him over in the process. “Merlin, we’ve done it!” He surged forward to hug his husband, crushing him tightly against his bare chest. Merlin laughed at the gesture, looping his arms around the man’s torso. He could feel the way Arthur was grinning into his hair, his joy nearly tangible.

“We should go to him,” Merlin mumbled into his chest reluctantly. Arthur nodded, loosening his grip and placing a gentle kiss to the raised scar on his shoulder before pulling away. Merlin shuttered as the cool morning air hit him again in the absence of his husband’s added warmth.

Upon stepping into their son’s chambers, they found Westley still fast asleep in his bed. The thin, blue blanket he preferred to sleep with lay bunched up on one side, exposing his legs. Merlin noted that he must have tossed and turned a few times in his sleep the night before, but the tense lines that had been present in his features the previous nights were no longer there.

“Seems as if the constant crying and screaming has caught up to him,” Arthur remarked from behind him.

Merlin nodded. “He’s exhausted. I hate to wake him up but I’d rather he not wake up alone.” He leaned over to brush some hair away from Westley’s eyes. “Wake up, love. It’s morning.”

The boy stirred in his bed, eyes opening slowly as he regained consciousness. Merlin could see what a struggle it was for the young Prince to keep his eyes open as they continued to flutter shut. “Did Areion protect you?” He mumbled into his pillow. The sorcerer waved the toy dragon he had made sure to bring with him above his head in affirmation. Westley’s toothy grin lit up his face, his parents smiling down at him in return.

✯•´*¨`*•♛•*`¨*`•✯

Despite the progress made the night before, Westley stuck close to Merlin throughout breakfast and the rest of their morning preparations. The mood of the day seemed lighter, however. It felt as if breathing came easier now and their routine flowed with the same ease it had weeks ago. Arthur knelt in front of Westly who was sat up on their bed, securing his shoes on his feet.

“Are you ready for another day of meetings?” The King asked. Westley looked at him and then at Merlin, weighing the question in his mind.

“Will you triple promise to have Areion with you?” The boy asked, chewing on his knuckles nervously.

“Of course,” Merlin replied, taking the figurine out of his satchel to show it to him again. Westley nodded in approval.

“Maybe- Maybe I can go play with Auntie Gwen then? For a little bit,” he suggested, wiping his hand on the side of his trousers. “I promise to be very brave so that you’ll be safe, Papa.” He stuck his hands out in front of him, signifying to his father that he wanted off the bed. Arthur picked him up and gently sat him back down on the ground.

“I’ll have one of the guards fetch Guinevere,” the King offered.

✯•´*¨`*•♛•*`¨*`•✯

“Don’t hesitate to send someone to the council room immediately if something goes wrong,” Arthur reminded Guinevere who had come to attend to Westley in their absence. The boy in question was currently occupied clinging to Merlin in the longest hug Arthur had ever witnessed. He had grown restless as the morning had drawn on but remained insistent on his ability to be apart from Merlin for a while when questioned again.

“For the last time Arthur, I know,” Gwen quipped, walking over to tap Merlin on the shoulder. He gave Westley one final squeeze before getting up and joining Arthur at his side. “You and Merlin need to leave before you’re late.”

“Alright but-” Arthur started again much to Gwen’s dismay.

“Good day, Sire.” He flinched as the door shut in his face, leaving him and Merlin standing out in the corridor.

“She can’t do that,” Arthur complained much to the amusement of the man beside him.

“It’s Guinevere. Of course she can,” Merlin challenged, taking Arthur’s hand in his and running his thumb over the back of his calloused knuckles.

“We should take our leave,” Arthur suggested, noting that they had been lingering outside of the door for far too long. Merlin nodded, moving one arm to entangle itself in Arthur’s and leaving the other hanging down at his side, fingers brushing over his satchel where the ‘enchanted’ token sat. They walked down the hall tentatively, unable to shake the feeling that they would be pulled back to their chambers at any second by an earth-shattering scream or cry.

Nothing came. The halls of the castle were as lively as ever as servants and knights moved swiftly past them. Surprise shined in their eyes when they noticed the absence of the young Prince at their side. Merlin’s fingers twitched at his side as if anticipating that at any moment a smaller hand would be grabbing for his and attempting to pull him in a completely different direction.

“I can hear you worrying, Merlin,” Arthur laughed.

“Were you not the one moments ago nagging Gwen’s ears off about Westley?”

Arthur sputtered. “I merely wanted to be certain she knew what to do. It’s called responsibility.”

“I wasn’t aware that responsible has become the new word for overbearing,” the sorcerer teased, bumping his shoulder against Arthur’s as they continued to walk.

“He’ll be fine, Merlin,” Arthur replied, decidedly ignoring his comment. Merlin felt peace at those words, the anxiety he had been carrying with him the past weeks steadily melting away.

“I believe he will.”

Things gradually went back to the way they were after that day as Westley continued to grow more independent from Merlin. The castle staff no longer anticipated the wailing that had been so common a few days prior. The noise was now replaced mostly by laughter and shouting as nursemaids often had to chase the Prince down the corridors whenever he decided he wished to go exploring. All was well in Camelot for the time being. And, although he knew it wouldn’t always be this way, Merlin reveled in the calm that had settled upon the castle for now.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt fill for @miofrommars on Tumblr who gave me the prompt "It's not your fault." How I turned that into a kid fic, I'm not actually sure but here we are. This one took me a while and I sacrificed study time for this so kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. You can find me on tumblr @Meteorjam.
> 
> I literally just translated Merlin's spells from some online old english dictionary so here are the translations if you're curious:  
> Líðs – Calm  
> Smyltnes éadnes æmetta léoht.- Calm (another word for it), peace, quiet, light


End file.
